


This Doesn't Count

by Codydarkstalker



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Intercrural Sex, Loss of Virginity, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:30:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4190445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codydarkstalker/pseuds/Codydarkstalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair was taught he should wait to have sex until the time was right. Since the time was never right, he ended up waiting an awful long time. But the Hero of Ferelden is willing to show him there's still plenty he can do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Doesn't Count

Alistair had grown up sheltered. First in Redcliffe with the Arl and then in the Chantry with the Templars. His first true taste of anything like freedom was with the Grey Wardens and even that was limited and short lived. So it was no great surprise to him that he found himself struggling to deal with all of the new situations he was being thrust into, out on the road with Rowan Cousland. What was a great surprise was that Rowan wanted him to thrust into her.

Rowan had been a miracle, straight from the Maker himself he was sure of it. She was lovely, with dark hair and a sweet face that he found lovely even when splattered with darkspawn blood. He spent an embarrassing amount of time on the road trying to stare through her armor, his mind consumed with lurid fantasies about exactly what her body was like underneath.

The first time she had invited him back to his tent he had laughed it off as best as he could, almost certain that she was just teasing him. After all, Rowan was a lady from a fine house, and ladies did not, as a general rule, go about making dirty suggestions to men they had known for less than a month. Or at least that was what the Arl’s wife has impressed upon him at an early age.

“A lady,” she had said “A lady will need to be courted. She will not make the first move or show any romantic interest in a man she does not know. It is improper, and you should never have anything to do with an improper lady.” She had stared him down until she started to squirm under her stern gaze and then sent him off to the Arl for some sort of chore, eager to have him out of her hair.

Rowan was a lady, he was sure, so it followed that she was obviously joking about him joining her for the night. However, that logic seemed to fall apart when she repeated her offer a week later, leaning in close to whisper in his ear, her words making him feel much, much warmer than the campfire. He had refused, again, but this time he had tripped over his words and he could feel his face going red and he knew he was embarrassing himself. 

“Are you a virgin?” she had asked suddenly, as though the thought had never occurred to her before.

He had only hesitated a moment before admitting the truth. “I grew up in the Chantry you know, not much opportunity there.” He decided to leave out the part about the Chantry sisters lecturing him about girls and women and the wet spots on his sheets and the lengthy time he spent in the privy when he thought no one was looking for him.

“Your purity is precious and to squander it on a harlot would displease the Maker.”

Rowan, to her credit, didn’t laugh at him. She didn’t question his manhood. She simply nodded and switched the topic to something easier and more familiar, the mission.

“We should head out for the Frostback Mountains tomorrow, we can probably make it about halfway there by tomorrow night if we don’t get held up by bandits or darkspawn.” 

He spent most of the next day silently cursing himself for his stupidity. That night he kissed her for the first time. It was more intense than he could have imagined. Rowan tasted like mead and smelled like campfire smoke and her hair was impossibly soft when he tangled his fingers into it. He thanked the Maker when their teeth didn’t bang together, and when her lips parted and her tongue swiped across his bottom lip he thanked Him again. When they finally pulled apart Rowan looked beautiful but almost feral, her hair wild around her face and her lips wet. But she dragged her hand through her hair and smiled and suddenly she was herself again, teasing him and laughing and asking for another kiss.


End file.
